


Connie Swap Episode 4: Daddy's Little Girl

by br42, BurdenKing, MjStudioArts



Series: Connieswap [4]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Art, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Flashbacks, Gen, Momswap, Music, Pictures, Slice of Life, Steven Universe AU, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br42/pseuds/br42, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurdenKing/pseuds/BurdenKing, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MjStudioArts/pseuds/MjStudioArts
Summary: Connie's excited: it's her thirteenth birthday and her dad is coming to visit! But does Doug know this new Connie, who has powers and stories and friends, or does he only remember the little girl she used to be?





	1. Birthday Countdown

“One moment, Connie. I just need to hang this vessel by the entrance for Lapis and then I’ll be ready to assist you,” said Peridot as she walked over and hung a small cylinder up on a hook by the Beach House door. Connie, meanwhile was sitting on a kitchen stool, swinging her feet with nervous energy and periodically glancing at the windows.

“I have returned. Hand me that brush, please,” the gem said, standing behind Connie and beginning to brush the girl’s long, dark hair. “Why, it seems like only a year ago you were turning twelve. My how the solar rotations fly.”

“Peridooot,” Connie protested but chuckled all the same, “I think you need a new book of jokes, ma’am. You used that one last y-ow! Ooh, careful…” she exclaimed, ducking her head away from the brush and rubbing her scalp.

“Oh! Apologies, dear. The actuators of that limb must be in need of maintenance and recalibration. That’s sooner than I had anticipated,” Peridot grumbled.

The Green gem took a moment, released a long sigh, and managed to relax her shoulders. “I’ll deal with that later; for now I’ll brush with this limb instead. Is that less traumatic for your hair follicles, Connie?”

“Yes ma’am. And thanks for helping me get ready,” Connie added. “I don’t want to waste any time once dad gets here. There’s just so much to talk about and so much to do and we’ve only got until tomorrow morning before he’s traveling again and I know he’s working hard for my sake but I miss him dearly sometimes and he doesn’t really get gem magic but there’s been so much of it over the last month-and-a-half and… and listen to me. I’m talking like Steven,” she said with a curious mix of self-reproach and mild amusement.

The thud of footsteps ascending the stairs caused Connie to snap to immediately. She frantically waved the brush away, straightened her dress, and adjusted the glasses on her nose.

When Lapis walked into view, a bulging Big Donut bag hanging from each hand, she was greeted with a scowling Connie.

“Geeze, who poofed your Pearl?” snarked the Blue gem as she sidled through the door sideways, the light silhouetting contents including at least two two-liter bottles and an assortment of boxes.

“Why’d you walk up the stairs? You never walk up the stairs. Here I am scrambling to get ready for dad and it’s you instead, hauling enough caffeine and trans fat for four people,” ranted Connie.

Lapis walked over toward the couch and set down her bags, the door closing behind her. She was about to respond when she did a quick double take, noticing the cylinder hanging beside the entrance. “Woo! Go, P-dot!” she called and she and Peridot mimed a high five across the room. Connie looked back and forth between them, confusion on her face.

“Once I’m out and about again, I’ll have some fun with that,” she added.

Peridot smiled, then, when Connie wasn’t looking at her, mouthed the word ‘Doug’ and motioned with her eyes towards the temple door.

The Blue gem waved unconcerned at Peridot, then turned to face Connie, counting on her fingers as she replied. “One: I’ll have you know that if I fly, the soda gets all shook up and I’m neither James Bond nor Elvis so no thank you. Two: I don’t plan to just binge on old movies and manga, so this bounty needs to be enough to get me through until at least tomorrow morning. And Three: I had to make my own snack run today because a Little Miss Priss is getting all girlied up for some reason.”

The slight gem skipped over and got in close, looking Connie over from the front and sides. “In faaact, if I may say, you’re looking ever so cute. What’s the occasion, Con-con? Are you trying to impress Pinky Pie, because I think you’d get more mileage out of the ‘ready for action’ look than the ‘dainty damsel in a dress’,” she observed, adding a little wink at the end.

Connie blushed and gave Lapis’ shoulder a little shove. “No! Dad’s visiting today so there’ll be no Stevening, thank you very much, and, gosh, can’t a girl dress up for herself?” she exclaimed, smoothing a few wrinkles out of her gown.

Lapis chuckled and draped an arm over Peridot’s shoulder, the latter crossing her arms and smiling. “Alright, no need to get pushy,” said the Blue gem, grinning while making a ‘calm down’ gesture with her free hand, “I’m just surprised to see you sitting on the furniture at all. You’ve been playing with those force fields of yours so much lately I’d forgotten what you looked like when you weren’t tinted yellow.”

One of Connie’s hands went up to her gem, her face uncertain. “I, uh, it was time for a break. Besides, I still don’t know how to reliably make them go away and I’d hate to have some littering the house if dad were to burst i-”

The screen door hit the wall with a bang, causing Peridot, Lapis, and Connie all to startle in surprise.

“Boom! Ha ha! Now, where’s my little birthday girl?” Doug called out, a three-foot-long teddie bear tucked under his arm. He smiled brightly at Connie, who gave an excited squeak and slid off the stool with an exuberant cry of ‘Daddy!’

The girl, in a chipper, yellow sundress, and the father, dressed in his usual tucked in collared shirt, belt, and slacks, hugged one another tightly. The large stuffed animal sat on the floor, dropped and momentarily forgotten. 

A beat later Doug leaned forward and shifted into a bear hug, then straightened up and spun the two of them around, both laughing joyously.

He set Connie down, pretending to stagger in a dizzy circle, which prompted a giggle from his daughter. He then knelt down in front of her and booped her nose. 

“There she is! My little cupcake, another year older and even cuter than before. Happy birthday, baby,” he said, smiling broadly.

“Ahhh, daddy,” she said, a touch shy. She looked past his shoulder and gestured to the stuffed animal on the floor. “Who’s this you brought with you?”

Doug reached over and picked up the bear. “Why, a new friend to keep my cupcake company while I’m away.”

He used one hand to hold up the toy’s body while another clasped the neck and chin, allowing him to swivel the animal’s head around to face him. “And what’s that, Mr. Bear?” he asked, angling his ear so the bear could appear to whisper into it.

“You want to give the birthday girl her card?” [nod] “And a hug?!” [vigorous nod] “Well, alright,” and with that he withdrew a postcard from his back pocket that showed a quaint sign that read ‘Come see the charms of Charm City.’

The bear clumsily held the postcard out to Connie, then flung itself into a hug the moment she’d taken it.

“You shouldn’t have, daddy. He’s perfect! I’m sure he’ll make a great pillow,” she said, squeezing the bear to her chest and beaming at her father.

“I knew you’d love it. So, I hope you are ready for a day jam-packed with fun! Go put your bear away; we’ll head out soon,” he said, lightly grabbing her shoulders, pivoting her towards the stairs, and giving her a little pat on the back.

* * *

Doug stood and gave a contented sigh, grinning fondly up at Connie as she ascended to the loft. The moment passed and he seemed to suddenly notice the other two people in the room.

“Peridot,” he said with a nod, summoning an affable, if restrained, smile. “Lapis,” he added, the smile now stopping well short of his eyes.

“Hello... Doug,” drawled Lapis while Peridot replied with her typical ‘Greetings.’

The three stood, silent for a moment, before Doug spoke up. “So, ladies, how’s the garden doing?”

“Within a tolerable approximation of optimal,” said Peridot, looking pleased. “Aside from the usual staples, we’ve rotated in apples, oranges, and carrots to the current crop and they’re producing nicely.”

Doug looked momentarily surprised. “Apples? Huh... I didn’t think they could grow that far south.”

“It required careful cultivation, certainly, but nothing someone with my expertise couldn’t handle,” Peridot boasted. Then, as though to fill the silence, she added, “All with Lapis’ help, of course.”

“Turns out plants need water. Who knew, right?” deadpanned Lapis.

Peridot glanced between Doug and Lapis, then did her floating-finger equivalent of clasping her hands together. “Yes, highly accurate. So! Lapis, I know you were wanting to get those purchases of yours stored before their temperature regressed to the mean. I’ll see Connie and Doug off while you do that.”

As Lapis walked over to her bags, she adopted a wide smile that was completely at odds with her body language. “You’re right, P. Oh, that reminds me, the denial duo running that snack shack tell me my tab’s come due. Since it’s your money either way, Dougie,” she said, giving him a wink, “why don’t you be a peach and settle that while you’re in town?”

The Blue gem then picked up her bags, said a chipper ‘ta!’ without looking back, and sashayed over and through the temple door.

Doug stood rigidly, arms at his side, and drew in a deep breath. He looked to the large portrait of Citrine that hung over the entryway and exhaled slowly, ending with a small, bitter chuckle. He managed to unclench his fists, then pushed his glasses up his nose.

There was a flash and a tone as Jasper appeared on the warp pad, a little scuffed up but standing tall and confident. Her left hand was raised, above which floated a spiky, light blue gem in an orange bubble. 

_Looks like a sea urchin crossed with one of the twenty-sided dice from my college days_ , observed Doug.

The warrior gem made a shallow bow towards him. “Doug,” she said simply, respectfully.

He gave her a matching bow and replied in kind, “Jasper.”

With that, the Orange gem turned and vanished into the temple.

With Jasper and Lapis out of sight, Doug slumped a little, his posture broadcasting weariness. “Take care, Peridot. I’ll have Connie back after dinner,” he said, a touch quietly, before turning and walking towards the loft staircase.

Peridot glanced at the temple door then at Doug’s back, answering in a chipper voice that didn’t match her chagrined expression, “Understood, Doug. You two have fun.” 

She then turned and left, giving father and daughter the Beach House to themselves.

* * *

Connie had just finished rearranging the stuffed animals on her bed, both to showcase the new addition and hide the box they had all been in until that morning, when she heard heavy footsteps coming up toward her loft.

Doug knelt down at the side of the bed and handed Connie a figurine of a woman wearing a pith helmet and holding a whip and a chair. “Of course, I couldn’t forget a new GAL for my gal. This is ‘Animal Tamer GAL.’” 

He then leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “I wanted to give you her after you got the bear settled so they wouldn’t fight; there’s something of a professional rivalry between them, if you can believe it.”

The two shared a small chuckle as Doug took in the sights of his daughter’s bedside. _Yup,_ he thought, _Spirit Morph poster, tack board of postcards, violin in the corner, sci-fi books, fantasy books, oh, those old choose-your-own-adventure reads I gave her a few years ago. That big one with the cracked pearl… not my side of the fence, really. Oh, this is new._

“Who’s your friend?” Doug asked, gesturing to a picture Connie had sitting in a cheap, pink frame on one of the shelves behind the head of her bed. 

It showed Connie on the left, laughing, while a boy, nine- or ten-years-old if Doug was any judge, with short, curly hair, and a reddish-pink shirt made a silly face. On the right and partially out of frame stood an older teen smiling broadly, a hearing aid in his visible ear, wearing a black ‘Mr. Universe’ tee under a pink overshirt, large curls pulled back into a ponytail.

Connie seemed suddenly bashful. “Daddy, this is Steven.” 

_Ah, my little girl’s still shy,_ observed Doug, resisting the urge to ruffle her hair. “Seems like a funny fella. You two play together often?”

Connie was rubbing the back of her neck, a little flushed. “S-some. He moved to town recently and I met him while I was going out to read. He’s actually close to my age, though you might not think it at first glance.”

“Eh, that’s how some boys are at that age. Anyway, you be sure to tell him that his big brother has good taste in music.”

“Wait, big brother?” she said, looking at the photo in confusion, “Steven’s the one with the ponytail,” she explained, pointing to the teen on the right, then motioned to the boy in the middle, “That was just some kid who ran into the shot and photobombed us.”

“...oh.”

* * *

“So I get a call from Frank about a disturbance at one of the discussion panels. These guys are all rent-a-cops whose combat training begins and ends with their taser, so I’d given them strict orders to tag me in first. The clients hate it when a disturbance becomes a TubeTube sensation, so I’ve learned to handle these things myself,” said Doug as he and Connie walked toward the boardwalk, the latter looking up at him with rapt attention.

“When I get there, there’s this kid with crazy yellow hair, a koala mask, and a tiara who was fending off Frank with a didgeridoo that had lit sparklers glued to the end!” he said, face animated, miming the situation while Connie nonstop giggled.

“I get him in a lock, Frank confiscates the didgeridoo --which was a weapons violation before the fireworks were attached, I should add-- and I haul him off the premises. The whole way out he’s ranting about his ‘psychic ghost powers’ and chanting gibberish. I tell ya, that is the last time I ever work DelmarvaCon,” finished Doug, laughing alongside Connie and a little breathless from his enthusiastic retelling.

The two took a moment to lean on the rail in front of the Big Donut while they rode out their shared mirth.

* * *

Inside the store, Sadie said something to Lars, repeated it, then elbowed him in the side. This prompted him to take out his earbuds and exclaim something in reply. Sadie pointed at Doug and Connie, then mimed carrying two heavy bags. Lars nodded towards Sadie, nodded towards the door, and then pulled out his phone. Sadie grabbed the phone and raised it up as though she were about to drop it in the open drink Lars had earlier embezzled, then easily held Lars at bay by bracing her free hand against his chest. Lars relented vocally, throwing his hands up before walking around the counter and towards the front. Sadie blew him a kiss, prompting Lars to roll his eyes and mutter.

The door opened and Lars approached the pair as they were staring out at the sand and surf, still giggling slightly. 

“Hey, mister Mahe-, uh, mister Mahash-, mister Maweshwar-” but everyone was spared another attempt by Lars when Doug turned, cutting him off by saying, “Please, call me Doug.”

Unnoticed by Doug, Connie scowled fiercely at Lars.

“Yeah, uh, Doug, so that blue lady bought a whole lot of our stuff and said to hit you up for the money.”

Doug lifted his glasses with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. “Young man,” he started, but the teen piped up with ‘name’s Lars’. 

“My apologies. Lars, I would pay you now, in full, if I didn’t strongly suspect that same blue lady of coming back here during the middle of my day out with my daughter because she ‘forgot the cream-filled ones’ or something similar.”

Lars, who had just previously looked back to glower at someone in the shop, turned forward and interjected, “No, she bought all of those this morning, even the lemon-filled ones no one likes.”

“Of course she did,” said Doug, unsurprised. “Regardless, I can see on the door when you close and I can assure you that I will be by before then to settle my accounts.” 

He then took Connie’s hand, dismissed the teen, saying, “Have a good day, Lars,” then turned to walk with his daughter toward the boardwalk. 

Connie looked back and, once more, glared daggers at the Big Donut employee.

“Yeah but- ah, whatever,” Lars groused as the pair departed.

Once back inside, Lars said something while gesturing toward the retreating figures, then held a hand up to about Connie’s height and gave Sadie his attempt at an evil stare. Sadie mimed wearing a pair of glasses using her thumb and forefingers in ‘o’ shapes. Lars nodded. Sadie posed as though pretending to hunch over a book, then asked something. Lars nodded. Sadie guffawed at Lars, pounding the countertop, while the latter snatched his phone from her unresisting fingers and retreated to the Employee Room, head lowered and shoulders raised.

* * *

“So, enough about me, and enough about… that,” said Doug, gesturing over his shoulder towards the donut shop. “What have you been up to, cupcake? Anything interesting happen?”

Connie’s expression became carefully neutral and she locked her eyes on the designs visible through the window of the generically-named T-Shirt Shop. Then she swallowed and answered her father, hand at her gem.

“W-well, I met Steven!... which you know. Aaand I’ve been training with Peridot and Jasper regularly! Though, that’s not really new. Um, I went to some gem ruins with the others about a month ago,” she almost squeaked out, looking up at her father’s face.

All of Doug’s previous calm was banished in an instant. “You did? Were you hurt? Were there any monsters there?” Doug asked hurriedly.

Connie swallowed again. “Um, yes, no though I got pretty wet at one point, and not really. There were these crystal shrimp things, each about the size of a small dog, but they just ran away and tried to hide,” said Connie, choosing her words very carefully.

Doug relaxed slightly but wasn’t finished reacting. “How a trio collectively older than several geological epochs thought it was okay to bring a thirteen-, no!, twelve-year-old on a mission is beyond me. I’m going to have words with them! Lapis, I could see, maybe even Jasper, but Peridot?! I thought she knew better.”

The pair resumed their walk, though it took a few yards before Doug’s grumbling lost steam. Another deep breath and slow exhale later, Doug regained his equilibrium and looked down at Connie. 

“I’m sorry, cupcake. These are matters for adults, not you, and certainly not appropriate birthday celebration talk,” apologized Doug before giving her an earnest smile. “So, was there anything else?”

Connie looked small, dejected at the moment she replied...  
“N-not really, daddy,”

...but there was a brief _shimmer_ and a fresh-faced Connie smiled up at Doug, eyes twinkling.  
“But I was reminded last week that there’s a new Spirit Morph book coming out and I’m so excited ‘bout it!”

The two talked enthusiastically as they strolled down the boardwalk, hand in hand. As a special treat for the occasion, and helped along by the low-energy exhortation of a boy in a mascot outfit, they shared a basket of fries from the fry shop.

That Connie didn’t stand quite so tall at the counter went unnoticed.

* * *

Lights flashed and claxons rang as Connie and Doug had their traditional father-daughter game-fest at the Funland Arcade. Skee-ball; _Teens of Rage; Chrono Panic 4; Potato Bros,_ ‘because my younger self would be cross with me if we didn’t,’ said Doug; games of skill and games of chance; lots of tickets earned and even more tokens spent.

“Player One wins!” announced the Fight Fighters arcade.

“Huh? When did you get so good at fighting? Are you a battle-cupcake, with attack-sprinkles?” teased Doug while Connie giggled.

 _Shimmer_ “Probably just luck, daddy. Doctor Karate is very button masher-friendly,” she said, standing slightly on the balls of her feet to give her a better view of the screen.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, shortie,” Doug chuckled, “because if video game skill is an inheritable trait, then my misspent youth will make you a video game goddess.”

 _Shimmer_ “Then how about a rematch, daddy?” challenged Connie, hands at the controls and feet flat on the floor.

“Well, if it’s a Mahes-war you want, then it’s a Mahes-war you shall get,” Doug said in a serious tone... before hurriedly slotting in a token and exclaiming, “Dibs on Beastor!”

* * *

Harold Smiley stood behind the prize counter, his attention rotating between the gem girl and her dad, the rest of the arcade’s patrons, the egg timer that was ticking away beside his register, and then back to the girl.

 _Not that she’s ever a problem,_ he thought as he drummed his large fingers on the countertop, _but problems follow those ladies around and, heh, there’s a reason my insurance adjuster claims karmic debt every time she comes to-_

His internal monologue was put on hold while he exchanged Sour Cream’s bundle of tickets for several sheets of pixel art stickers.

_Well, whoever owns those docks is probably underwater same as their property, is all I’m sayin’. Hey, I should write that one down!_

Harold was still trying to get his pen to work on the receipt paper he’d dispensed from the register when that girl and her dad walked over, grinning like Harold had at the start of his and Quentin’s old routine.

The man cleared his throat dramatically, then spoke in what Harold would describe as a radio voice. “Sir, I’d like to exchange these,” and the man emptied handfuls of tickets from every pocket on his person, “for the finest Fancy Fairy Princess Tiara you have in stock.”

 _Eh, not bad for an amateur,_ the former entertainer observed as he transferred the tickets to a scale to count them by weight.

“Yes sir! As you can see, I have three models: pink with gold, pink with silver, and pink with, well, more pink! Which would the little lady like?” he asked, looking down at the girl in the enveloping dress who was scrutinizing his prize shelves.

There was a brief _shimmer_. Smiley glanced momentarily at the overhead lights and the nearby arcade cabinets before shrugging.

“I wanna yellow princess crown... sir. Princesses can be yellow too!” piped the girl, fingers gripping the edge of the glass display counter.

_Remember, always leave ‘em smilin’, Smiley. ‘Sides, the sooner these two leave the happier I’ll be! Last thing I need is a bunch of monsters lookin’ for a gem lady to fight to riddle the arcade full of holes!_

“‘Course they can. Here, I’ll take this one with the pink rhinestones on it and… just… put these sparkly yellow gem stickers over ‘em and… voila!” he said, holding the crown up to the light for the girl to admire.

The girl looked at her dad, who nodded, then made the universal ‘gimme, gimme’ sign with her outstretched hands. Harold pushed the crown across the counter, smile wide.

“Here ya go. Now you can be a rebel; show the world pink isn’t in charge anymore,” Harold ad-libbed.

The dad adjusted his daughter’s tiara and had to flinch aside to avoid her upraised fist. “Yeah! Rebellion! Down with the tyranny of pink!” chanted the girl, eyes bright with the revolutionary spirit as she strode purposefully outside, her dad only able to mouth Harold a silent ‘thanks’ before chasing after her.

****

Harold chuckled to himself, looking satisfied. _Can’t no one read a room like this old comedian! You still got it, Mr-_ DING

Harold sighed, tucked the intruding egg timer into his black fanny pack, and placed an upright sign on the counter that read “Back in 30 Minutes”. He then hustled out the side door to the little prize-counter moped he’d co-opted to zip back and forth between the amusement park and the arcade.

_Two Funlands times half the employees equals one overworked entrepreneur. It ain’t fun being understaffed. Funderstaffed! Hey, I should write that one down!_

* * *

“I still can’t believe it’s mid-November,” Doug mused aloud about the unseasonably pleasant weather. He had a recently purchased picnic blanket under one arm while the other held a basket of food he’d bought from a nearby bodega.

Connie, who was having to use both hands to keep her dress from dragging in the sand, cried out “Birthday Beach Picnic!”; Doug having managed to redirect her enthusiasm for insurrection into enthusiasm for more birthday fun.

Doug couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. _Glad to see my little girl hasn’t grown up on me when I wasn’t looking,_ he thought, eyes twinkling with paternal satisfaction.

Once the perfect spot was found, the blanket spread, and the basket unpacked, the two settled down and clinked their beverages, toasting in Tamil: ‘Nanraaga saappidunkal!’ [Enjoy the meal!]

Doug ruffled Connie’s hair and added, “Pirandha naal vazhthu!” [Happy Birthday!]

The two tucked in. Connie proclaimed her PB&J to actually be a ‘Sandwich of Destiny’, ate half, then asked if Doug wanted to swap half of his ham on rye for it. Doug politely declined.

There were more happy observations and personal anecdotes shared but by the end Doug and Connie were silent, splayed out and basking in both the sunshine and one another’s company.

An indeterminate amount of lazing later, Doug spoke up. “So, Princess Cupcake, what do you want next? A trip to the amusement park? Going to see a movie? Maybe a walk across the docks to play ‘name the ship’ like we used to?” offered Doug, staring contentedly out to sea.

Leaning against him, Connie went from at peace to instantly nervous. However, there was an overlooked _shimmer_ and then she laid her head on Doug’s lap, visibly relaxed. On instinct he began caressing her hair. 

A quiet moment passed before a little voice answered. “I wanna story. A story ‘bout you and mama!”

Doug considered this for a moment, then glanced up and down the beach, a wistful smile playing across his lips. 

“Funny you should ask. You see, it was because of this very stretch of beach that I met your mother.” 

Connie shifted in Doug’s lap, getting comfortable, while Doug continued. “It was back when I was in grad-school. Your aunt Nat had stuffed me and our friends David and Amshu all into Uncle Marco’s crappy car, driving us to some concert I didn’t care about in some little town I’d never heard of before…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Agents of the nefarious Pink Authority conspired to impede part of the art for this chapter. These ne'er-do-wells stymied our head artist with technical difficulties... but fear not! The Runaway Rebellion Cupcake will be appear in this chapter in the next day or three to lead us all to glorious and/or adorable victory.~~  
>  Rebellion Connie has arrived!
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


	2. How I Met Your Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. If you missed it before, be sure to go back to Chapter 1 and see the pic for Rebellion Princess Connie; Mjstudioarts did a great job illustrating the runaway revolutionary cupcake.
> 
> Secondly, our editor, BR42, wanted to pass along that since this is a flashback chapter, we're trying out some stylistic changes: lyrics are being italicized and there's a shift from the usual Third-Person Limited to a Third-Person Omniscient.
> 
> Finally, if you're curious just what Marco's car looks like, [this](https://assets.hemmings.com/blog/wp-content/uploads//2014/02/fourlinks_AVEMizar2_700.jpg) is the guide photo we were using while writing the chapter.

“I don’t see a city, Marco. Or a beach, neither, so I’m pretty sure this ain’t Beach City. Are you doing that dumb macho thing where you’re lost and won’t admit it?” snarked the tall, dark-skinned girl who was lounging in the front seat.

“I know where I’m going, Nat. It’s not my fault this town is, like, fifteen people big,” answered the lanky-haired redhead behind the wheel of a beat-up Ford Pinto.

He then rummaged through the clutter beneath the radio/cd player causing the car to swerve a bit, eliciting a shared ‘whoa!’ from the four passengers. Eventually he produced a wrapped sucker that he handed to the girl.

“Here, I buy your good behavior with candy. Now why don’t you make sure no one flew out the back while I get us there,” he added.

Nat craned around in her seat, sucker tucked behind an ear for later. “How’s everyone holding up back there? No one’s suffocated, right?”

Amshu, to Doug’s left, piped up first. “I am doing well, thank you,” she said, dark haired and modestly dressed, sitting as primly as the cramped accommodations would allow.

 _Of course, we’re all modestly dressed compared to Natalia_ , Doug silently amended.

David, Doug’s roommate and the only one present other than Nat with something resembling a sense of fashion, looked away from the window long enough to flash Nat a quick smile.

Doug resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We’re good, Nat. Just a little crowded back here. On the upside, when this clunker inevitably breaks down,” Doug said with a chuckle at Marco’s cry of protest, “we’ll finally have legroom while we’re pushing.” 

The fact that he was packed between two people and being poked by a spring through a rip in the upholstery had nothing to do with either his mood or assessment of the vehicle. Really.

Nat rolled her eyes. “Laugh it up mister ‘Collared Shirt To A Concert’. In fact, I think all of you need to get loosened up. Get pumped! We’re going to a show, not a study group!” she called, then pointed to Marco, exuberance lighting up her face, “Marco, hit me with the tunes!”

“Woo!” shouted Marco as he jammed the button on the radio getting… static.

“Ah, come on!” he complained as he flipped around the dial.

“Maybe we are too far out of range?” offered Amshu.

David spoke up for the first time in minutes. “Given that the antenna is literally a wire hanger, and, like, a wire hanger that’s seen things, know-what-’m-sayin’, I think any range is too far.”

“Et tu, David? Doug is bad enough; I don’t need two backseat hecklers,” said Marco, mock insulted.

Nat used her sucker as a judge would a gavel, rapping on the car’s dash to call for silence. “Order in the coach. As much fun as it is to rag on the Marcomobile, we could do that from campus. I’m here to par-tay and if this thing can’t bring the jams then we’ll just have to rock out ourselves!” she exclaimed over groans of protest.

Undeterred, Nat held the sucker as a microphone and began singing, “ _Some... say I have no direction. That I'm a light-speed distraction. But that's a knee-jerk reaction…_ ”, all while poking Marco in the shoulder.

The ginger slowly relented, a smile spreading unbidden across his face as he picked up the song. “ _Still... this is the final frontier. Everything is so clear. To my destiny I steeerrr!_ ” and he swerved the car a little, either for emphasis or as petty revenge against the car’s naysayers.

For her part, Nat let out a hoot and joined back in, “ _This life in the stars is all I've ever known. Stars and stardust in infinite space is my only hooommme!_ ”, then swung around, eyes sparkling, and pushed the candy ‘mic’ into David’s face.

The blonde flushed then stammered slightly before eventually finding his voice. “ _B-But the moment that I hit the stage, thousands of voices are calling my name. And I know in my heart it's been worth it all of the while._ ”

“Yeah! Go, Dave, go!” Nat cheered.

Doug couldn’t stop the eye roll this time. He looked to Amshu for support only to find the girl smiling at the group’s antics. Noticing him, she gave a ‘what can you do?’ shrug and joined in.

“ _And as my albums fly off of the shelves,_ ” sang the car, three sets of eyes on Doug, waiting for his resolve to break.

“ _Handing out autographed pics of myself,_ ” they continued. Doug held firm, eyes on the ceiling to avoid the others’ faces. Then, a sucker booped him on the nose. He went cross-eyed -- _cherry-flavored_ , he noted-- then had to laugh; at them, at him, at all of it.

“ _This life I chose isn't easy but sure is one heck of a ride,_ ” sang five voices as the dented and visibly rusty Pinto sped away from the setting sun and past the “Beach City City Limit” sign.

* * *

Doug fought his way to the edge of the crowd, relief clear on his face. Not eager to head back in, he wandered for a while and eventually found his way to a refreshments table.

 _They’re planning something_ , he thought as he withdrew the bills to pay for his bottle of water. _And not just to get smashed_ , he added, subconsciously feeling for Marco’s Sanic-shaped key fob in his pocket.

A large stage had been erected on the beach, a pink wall of lights serving as the backdrop for Mr. Universe’s performance. A large tour bus flanked one side of the concert, the sides airbrushed with the performer’s name and various colorful spacescapes. Several flower-filled window box planters hung off the side, Doug noticed.

It turned out that Nat and company weren’t the only ones willing to drive out to the sleepy town to see the performance because the crowd was dense and wild. Doug swore he saw a little old woman, nut-brown with poofy white hair, crowd-surfing not long before he’d had enough and struggled out of the throng.

 _Let’s see now_ , thought Doug, scanning the crowd, _there’s Nat --she’s tall before you add in those shoes-- and she’s whispering something to Amshu and pointing- Ah ha!_ , he internally exclaimed.

Sure enough, Amshu slowly made her way out from the dancing masses and over towards Doug’s retreat, red plastic cup in hand. David, Marco, and Nat, meanwhile, wasted no time and were already bouncing with the beat.

The girl stood beside Doug, both facing towards the performance. She swirled her cup a little and spoke up. “It appears Nat’s persuasion that I attend this event was not for the innocent reasons she announced. More my folly for accepting.”

Doug gave a dry chuckle. “Ah, so she and Marco are at it again, I see… So, what should we do? Pretend to flirt? Pretend to be getting along before you suddenly slap me and leave in a huff?” he said, half-joking. 

_She wouldn’t be the first to take me up on that offer. I really should check if she wears rings before I crack that joke_ , he thought, half-serious.

Amshu gave an impish grin. “I will say, that would be rather fun, for me if not for your face.”

Doug was about to respond when he noticed Amshu’s drink was… glowing? He glanced down and saw a glow stick sunk to the bottom of the cup.

Following his gaze, Amshu looked down and gave a small sigh. “This was my decoy cup. A double waste: someone too has lost their light stick.”

“Water?” he asked.  
“Water,” she confirmed.  
“Lecture notes stowed in the car?”  
“Essay.”

“Ah. So…” Doug started, rubbing the back of his neck, expression shifting to uncertainty.

“I think this is a good point to say, with no offence to you Douglas-” Amshu began, the two slowly strolling over towards a pair of large trash cans.

“Just Doug. It’s not a nickname,” he cut in.

“Oh, pardon. But I must tell you I find no interest in this... courtship? I admit I am unsure of the best word,” she said as she threw her cup away, glowing contents and all.

“And neither do I! N-not that you aren’t a lovely woman who someone would wish to court,” he stammered out, grimacing at his own verbal clumsiness.

Amshu seemed unperturbed. “Exactly my point. Neither of us wish to proceed with this transaction. Let it be at rest, yes?” she asked, extending her hand to him.

“Agreed,” he said, shaking the hand with a smile. 

He then turned and gestured to the crowd, looking suddenly passionate. “After all, we didn’t come here to find someone else. We didn’t come here for a life changing musical experience. We came here for one simple reason: Nat is a busybody who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Am I right or am I- she’s gone already, isn’t she?”

A nearby bystander, with an eyepatch and a briefcase of all things, snickered and nodded.

“Perfect.”

* * *

“Okay, this next one’s going to slow down just a little, so grab yourself a partner! And while you do that, I’ll be bringing a very familiar face up on stage to join me for a very special duet. Give a big round of applause for my sweet starlight herself, Mary!” called Mr. Universe as he transitioned between songs.

Doug recognized the woman from when she’d chased a weaselly man with white hair off the stage after he hadn’t so much announced Mr. Universe’s act as used it as a chance to plug some burger franchise.

She’d used a rolled-up newspaper and a spray bottle.

The woman was slightly taller than the rockstar, with brown ringlets and a colorful cluster of tattoos on her left shoulder. Cooing out a pet name, she took Mr. Universe’s hand only to be pulled forward and around into a dip. Her cheeks reddened as they kissed onstage. 

The kiss complete, she pushed him away with an embarrassed smile, got her feet under her once more, and took a mic. “Hello Beach City! It’s wonderful to be back and to see so many of your faces in the crowd tonight! Love yourself, love one another, and enjoy!” she called out as the music began.

Doug shrugged, standing by his lonesome beyond the crush of the audience, having relocated to somewhere more fragrant than the trash cans. The crowd, however, had done as the performers had requested, pulling one another close. Men, women, it didn’t seem to matter save that they had someone to sway in time with. 

He even spotted Nat clutching David, _surprising no one_ , he thought to himself. Marco was with someone too, though Doug couldn’t make out much about them from his angle, gender included.

“ _What can I do... for you? What can I do that no one else can do? What can I do... for you?_ ” the pair sang together to the excitement of the crowd.

Doug, looking suddenly self-conscious, trudged around and to the edge of the concert, not far from the surf.

“ _My space man... you are so much fun. I hadn't planned... on find-ing you quite this captivating. I like your band... and Iiii like your song. I like the way... it’s making me sway. I like playing along. Oh-woah-oh-oh-oh-woah-oh._ ”

 _Maybe Amshu had the right idea_ , Doug mentally groused, _because coursework sounds better than… than whatever the heck you’d call what I’m doing now_.

With a huff, he turned his back on the show entirely, gazing instead out across the sand and surf, all illuminated by the brilliant full moon hanging low in the sky. 

He saw a glimpse of motion and a twinkle of light in his peripheral vision but wrote it off as the swaying of beach grass and moonlight reflecting off the surf. But when he saw it again he looked and…

A guitar solo, a rough, improvisational thing of raw emotions made audible, reared up just as the singing, and Doug’s heart, stopped.

A woman, yellow-haired but not in the way David was, tall but not in the way Nat was, danced along the shore, swaying with the music. The sea breeze fanned her hair around her shoulders and chest in a way achingly similar to how her sarong fanned around her legs and hips. A stylized, yellow lotus blossom was emblazoned on the garment. 

Her eyes moved from the stage to Doug and, for a second, the small part of Doug’s brain still capable of contemplation swore she sparkled, the moon shining through her instead of upon her. Then she gave him a soft smile that sent that last vestige of dispassionate thought to wherever the rest of his higher faculties had retreated.

Doug saw nothing but her, heard nothing but music, knew nothing but awe.

Slowly Doug became aware that her dance had shifted. Her upper body was still, her hips swayed, and her hands moved to the words of the song. She mouthed along, translating from song to dance to lips. “ _What can I do... For you? What can I do that no one else can do? What can I do... for you?_ ”

Either an eternity or a second passed when Doug realized the music had stopped. The woman chuckled, hand over her mouth, before waving to him and turning away. 

A beat later Doug gasped like he had just surfaced from too long under water, his lungs sucking in oxygen, his body swimming in a rush of awareness and sensation. Everything was all at once overwhelming yet remote.

_Did-did that happen?! Is this what going into shock feels like? Do I need to, I don’t know, lie down and elevate my legs or something?_

A glimpse of yellow and Doug whipped his head around almost painfully fast. A woman, The Woman, had just leapt into view, clearing a rise and jogging along the road out of town.

Doug blinked. He was in Marco’s crappy car trying to start the engine, his hand turning the key he’d been entrusted with as the group’s designated driver. He had ran here as soon as he’d figured out The Woman’s route but it felt like his mind had taken considerably longer to arrive than his body… which, honestly, didn’t seem all that impeded by its absence.

The engine protested but eventually turned over and Doug pulled the car out of the swath of beach used as an ad hoc parking lot for the concert.

Drive. Feel a powerful sense of urgency and disbelief swell in his gut. Catch a glimpse of yellow. This was the loop Doug was trapped in as the lights of the concert receded further and further into the distance.

He’d gone several minutes and multiple miles without seeing anything when he began to swear, first in English and then in Tamil. He was on the verge of pulling over, of getting off whatever crazy ride he’d unknowingly boarded back at the concert, when he saw movement along a dirt road leading… somewhere.

He pulled the car off the paved road, hopped out, sprinted ahead, ran back, closed the door, ran a step before falling on his butt --his collared shirt having come untucked somewhere along the way and then caught in the door-- pulled his shirt out from the door, ran two steps, ran back, opened the door and locked it before shutting it again, ran a dozen yards, patted his pockets, swore again in Tamil, ran back, reached through the open window, unlocked and opened the door, took the keys from the ignition and pocketed them, rolled up the windows, locked the door, shook his head in disbelief at himself, then sprinted along the dirt road.

* * *

A roar, echoing off the walls of what was looking to be an abandoned rock quarry, made Doug freeze in his tracks for a full minute. The swell of what Doug could only describe as ‘loud silk’ caused him to slow his subsequent advance to a crawl. The sound of a woman humming music from the concert kept Doug from fleeing altogether.

Crouched behind a boulder beside the old road, Doug saw The Woman. She had her back to him and was standing on the edge of a deep pool of shadow; the moon’s position meant that a corner of the quarry was a featureless expanse of black.

A faint light shone from her chest and her body itself seemed to radiate soft, yellow light, though both only served to contrast her with the stygian darkness beyond.

Something moved, the silk noise momentarily louder, and a shadow twenty or thirty feet up stirred before retreating like the body of a great serpent vanishing into a dark sea. Time and again Doug would catch a glimpse of… something but was utterly unable to discern size, shape, or pattern.

The Woman paced a few yards forward. There was a long hiss and then something, something quite large, Doug realized, occluded her.

 _Oh, I have GOT to be kidding me!_ , Doug thought to himself as he stepped from behind the boulder and walked cautiously forward. “M-Ma’am! There’s something there. Do… do you n-”

“Shhh” she cut him off, suddenly visible again and not looking up from whatever it was she was cradling. Then she added in a voice of honey, “you’ll wake him.”

Doug stood stock still, hardly daring to breathe. 

She resumed her humming, the faint nimbus of yellow light returning, then growing in intensity until the dim outlines of the quarry walls could be seen.

Nothing was there.

 _But. Thing. Giant! Where?_ , he stammered internally, uncomprehending.

The Woman finally dimmed, then walked over and knelt behind a pile of scree to set something down gently.

She walked up to Doug, a part of him startling from what a corner of his mind thought to be an optical illusion: no, she wasn’t that close, she was really that big!

She smiled softly. “Come, let’s get you back to your people.”

“My people?” he asked, confused but feeling oddly ebullient in her presence.

“Oh, please don’t do that. You are very cute but you need to go home,” she said sweetly. She then sighed and gave him a sad smile, taking his hand and leading him away from the quarry.

Doug followed unresisting. Eventually, he managed to find his voice again, “No really, what did you mean by ‘my people’?”

“Humans. Silly ones, doing their delightful show. Happy ones, awash in the experience and in each other’s presence. And a few bold ones, like you,” she answered, Doug feeling simultaneously proud and terribly confused.

“Huh…” he trailed off, eyes drifting over her beautiful eyes, plump lips, then to the gem that sat upon her chest. He quickly averted his gaze, cheeks heating up.

 _Gem_ , said his brain.  
_So what?_ , he asked back.  
_GEM. Yellow, big, big woman who was GLOWING_ , came the reply.  
Doug blinked a few times before sucking in a breath.  
“Oooh…” he, unknowingly, said aloud. She chuckled.

* * *

Once they reached Marco’s car, Doug was suddenly gripped by embarrassment. “It’s not mine!” he spouted, the words registering in his ears before he even realized he’d said them.

“Oh? Then how did you get here? Do you need me to carry you back to the music?” she asked, a look of mild concern on her face.

Doug rubbed the back of his neck, a little chagrined. “No, I mean I’m borrowing that car. Mostly. I didn’t really intend to come out here, to the concert I mean, or, well, to here too.” _Rambling! Abort!_ “I just went because my friends wanted me to come.”

She had an amused twinkle in her eyes as she looked down at him. “You didn’t want to come to this place but you followed a mysterious figure away from everything familiar. You were alone in a crowd that felt so together I wept to see it, but you sought one such as myself out the moment you could. You are flustered beside me in the presence of this borrowed coach, and yet you attempted to challenge something dark and frightening for my sake.”

 _Is this a riddle? Oh god, it’s like playing Marco’s_ Lutes and Loot _campaign all over again,_ thought Doug, then added, _only now I can’t blame my performance on the optional critical fumble rules._

The Woman smiled widely, twinkling in the moonlight, or was the moonlight twinkling in her? “I was wrong before: I don’t think there’s anyone like you at that show,” she revised, her voice like silk.

_...and if you roll a 99 or 00 on the fumble table, consult the critical success table instead._

“Doug!” he blurted out, then gave a half-smile to The Woman and tried again. “My name is Doug Maheswaran. I’m studying at Delmarva Tech over in Wilmingmore.”

“Call me Citrine,” she said, plump lips parting into a grin that made Doug’s heart flutter. “I live in the temple just under the lighthouse. I study people, mostly. They’re just so varied and marvelous.”

“Still,” she sighed, “you should probably run along back to your friends, and me, to mine.”

“Oh- yes, but, uh, maybe I could come back someday?” he asked, heart in his throat.

“If one day you can set aside your studies and return here, come find me,” she replied, then added, “Aloha, Doug Maheswaran.”

With that she turned and leapt, clearing the road and landing somewhere beyond, out of sight.

Doug leaned against the passenger side of the car, his body fit to melt from the warmth that suffused it. “Aloha, Citrine” he whispered back.

A moment later he drew himself back up, took a deep breath, and exhaled, grinning from ear to ear. _I feel like a million bucks! I feel like I could run up a mountain!_ , he thought, ready to step forward into a bold new future. _I feel like nothing could stop-_

Doug landed flat on his back this time, his left arm suspended above his head. The car’s wire hanger antenna was caught on his sleeve and holding fast with a strength belied by its rusty exterior. Doug found a few choice words in Tamil for the occasion.

* * *

Amshu and Marco sat on a log, staring longingly at the last few cars to leave. Nat paced with restless energy, barefoot, while David stood nearby holding her platform shoes with one hand and waving a bulky phone around with the other, muttering something about ‘bars’.

All four of them jumped when they heard the tinny honk of the Pinto. Doug killed the engine and rolled down the windows.

Nat ran over and leaned into the passenger side window. “Holy shit, Doug! We thought you got pissed off about Operation Doug-shu and left us here.” She then got into the car and gave his arm a squeeze.

“Sorry ‘bout that, by the way,” she said with a weak smile... before she fixed him with a glare and cuffed him upside the head. “So where the hell were you?!”

“Yeah, not cool, man,” said Marco, a relieved smile on his face. He walked around to the driver side of the car and added, “For a second there I thought the impossible had happened and someone actually bothered to steal this thing.”

Amshu tapped Marco on the shoulder and pointed. “Your car has not been stolen, but someone, I think, has taken the antenna. Perhaps they had a shirt in need of hanging, yes?”

Doug got out and pushed the driver seat forward, allowing David and Amshu to pile into the window seats before he scooched into the middle. David spoke up as he dug around in the upholstery for his seatbelt. “I guess this means we’ll be singing on the ride back too.”

Nat craned around in her seat. “The only song I want to hear right now is Doug’s as he tells us just what the heck he was doing.”

Before Doug could reply, Marco started up the car and the four concert goers jumped for the second time. Mr. Universe and Mary’s voices sang out loudly through the speakers, courtesy of the recent merch booth purchase that was spinning in the cd player.

“ _What can I do... for you?_ ”

Nat looked at him, bemused. “What’s up with you? Did you actually have a good time?” then she gasped, hand at her mouth, “Did you meet someone?!”

“ _What can I do that no one else can do?_ ”

“Yeah, I kind of did. Actually... hey, Marco!” he yelled over the song, “Think I can borrow your car next weekend?”

“ _What can I do... for you?_ ”

* * *

Doug smiled, one hand shading his eyes while the other stroked Connie’s hair.

“That night I learned two things. One: I’d been waiting my whole life for your mother and had never known it and; Two: always stay up to date on your tetanus shots,” he finished, chuckling.

Doug was reaching down to grab a drink for his parched throat when he heard a sobbing from his lap. Perplexed, he looked down and saw a little girl clutching him, swallowed by a yellow dress several sizes too large for her.

It wasn’t until she looked up at him, glasses huge on her face, that he recognized the girl as Connie. “I-I-I wish mommy was here” she cried, clinging to his waist.

There was a faint _shimmer_ and before his eyes the childhood gap between her front teeth returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join us next week as we present the finale of _Daddy's Little Girl_.
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


	3. You're Only as Old as You Feel

Doug looked down at the little girl, _his little girl_ , who’d pulled herself up into his lap and was crying into his collared shirt. The tiara was askew and almost wide enough to slip off her brow; several yellow stickers had flaked off, revealing the pink rhinestones underneath.

“C-Connie, honey, you f-feeling okay?” stuttered Doug with the look of a skater who’s just heard the ice under him buckle.

The little girl shook her head and gave a plaintive ‘nuh-uh’. 

Doug looked around, eyes wide, as though there’d be an answer to this situation lying somewhere on the beach. A sparkly, yellow gem sticker fluttered in the sand nearby, brilliant in the direct sunlight.

 _Gem_ , said his brain.  
_So what?_ , he asked back.  
_GEM. Yellow gem, little girl who just SHIMMERED,_ came the reply.  
Doug blinked a few times before sucking in a breath.

“Oooh…” he, unknowingly, said aloud. Connie whimpered.

_Okay. Act, don’t react. Uh… think Doug! Think-Think-THINK! Connie is… a little girl, somehow, and crazy gem magic is happening right in your lap! How do I make this stop? She’s, uh, sad. Brilliant insight, Maheswaran… Wait! Maybe I can do something with that. Maybe her gem will let her grow back if she’s… happy?_

He glanced down at his daughter, who was either burrowing into his chest or wiping her nose on his shirt. “Hey cupcake,” he said, gingerly removing the tiara before petting her head, “you’re sad because, uh, momma’s not here. How about I pull out my phone and show you some photos of mommy I scanned back when you were still a little baby?”

Connie nodded into his armpit, or finished wiping; it was hard to tell. She then laid her head on his arm, blinking away the last of her tears. _I’m gonna take that as a yes… I think. I don’t really speak, uh, seven-year-old? Eight? That was all during that big, overseas Dhawar Airlines contract._

Careful not to jostle the little girl, Doug extracted his phone from his pocket one-handed and navigated to the cloud-hosted image storage site he used. Connie swiveled around in his lap to see the phone, hair mussed, her dress looking like oversized pajamas on her tiny frame.

“See, here’s mommy and daddy on the beach. And here’s mommy watching the sunrise. And here’s mommy and daddy on vacation in Korea. And, OH!” 

Doug quickly slid a hand over Connie’s eyes as he paged through _those_ photos as quickly as he could. 

“Hey!?” came a high-pitched objection. Doug flushed. 

“S-Sorry, sweetie. Daddy still needs to organize these old pictures. But you can look now; here’s some good ones.” 

The pictures showed Citrine from behind, standing between Doug and a kind of giant, flying pufferfish. In one, gale-force winds were throwing debris up and sending Citrine’s hair and clothes flying. 

In another, Citrine was striding forward as a tall bastion of calm... literally; she was advancing on the gem monster through a torrent of air without the faintest hint of a breeze playing across her. The sun was in the frame, which might explain why Citrine looked so washed out.

In the next, Citrine had summoned her sword and looked to be reeling back and pivoting on her heel like an olympic hammer thrower about to release. The angle and lighting were just right to show the iconic lotus blossom on the flat of the yellow-pommeled sabre, her hair billowing behind her like a battle standard.

The following picture was a brilliant swath of light, as though Doug had pointed his camera directly at a spotlight or a lightning strike mere yards away.

The last showed Citrine holding a bubble with a gemstone in it that kind of looked like the cross-sectional view of a seedless watermelon. One of Doug’s arms was in the frame, upraised as part of a cheer; Citrine was caught mid-laugh.

“See, your mommy could summon her sword anytime there was trouble.”  
_Shimmer_  
“She was decisive, fearless, and amazing.”  
_Shimmer_  
“Everyone listened to her because she always knew what to do.”  
_Shimmer_

Doug heard a giggle and looked away from his phone to see… an even smaller Connie waving her now-massively oversized glasses around like a sword, making whooshing sounds with her mouth.

Very carefully, Doug pocketed his phone, stood, and lifted the roughly forty-pound Connie so she was upright and looking over his left shoulder.

 _Panic?_ , asked a corner of his mind. _Panic_ , came the answer.

Doug ran.

Connie raised both arms over her head and shouted in a giddy voice, “Weeeee!”

* * *

Sadie and Lars were sitting at one of the patio tables outside the Big Donut with the door propped open. On the edge of the table was a birdcage containing a small, yellow songbird and, beside that, an extremely tiny hypodermic needle.

A piece of paper was taped up in the window that read: _Air exchange is blocked by gulls nesting in the ducts again. The canary’s ~~diabeetus~~ diabetes monitor went off, meaning unsafe levels of powdered sugar in the air. Closed temporarily. -Mgmt_

Sadie was scooched up close to her coworker, ostensibly to better see the TubeTube video he was sharing on his phone. By the time she was resting her head on his shoulder, though, it was clear on their faces that neither truly believed the facade.

Two videos later and Sadie felt the distinctive sensation of someone with a metal ear gauge using her hair as a pillow.

She smiled.

Sadie’s phone trilled its alarm and then failed to combust when Sadie shot it a death glare. With a look of frustrated resignation the blonde extracted herself from Lars and the chair, slipped a white breathing mask over her face, and picked up the birdcage.

“Lil’ Wilford and I need to go check the air quality in the back. Can you keep an eye out for Mr. Maheswaran while I’m gone?” she asked, voice slightly muffled, as she tossed some birdseed into the cage to the excitement of the canary.

“Sure, sure,” Lars said as he tried and failed to find a similarly comfortable position.

Sadie entered the store holding the birdcage out in front, sweeping it from to and fro like it was a geiger counter and she was testing for radiation.

Lars noticed movement in his peripheral vision. Looking up and squinting he could make out Doug with what looked like a yellow sack slung over his shoulder, running like a gem monster was on his heels. 

_Man, why’s this city gotta be so freakin’ weird,_ Lars grumbled to himself as he did the five point scan of the area he’d been taught since grade school.

Seeing nothing to run from, the teenager got up and walked unhurriedly towards the man. Cupping his hands to either side of his mouth, he called out, “Hey, uh, Mr. Doug. I-”

Lars blinked as the he heard the ‘sack’ giggle and squeal out, “Faster, daddy! Faster!”

The look of profound worry on Doug’s face quickly shifted to annoyance. “Not… now… Lars!... Really… not… the… time…” he barked out between pants, fast approaching.

Lars frowned. “Yeah but we’ve got this thing and we might have to close early so-” but faltered mid-sentence once more; Doug wasn’t slowing down and he had murder in his eyes.

“LARS!... Use those… giant ears… of yours… to listen!... My daughter… is more important… than Lapis’... spite-donuts!” he shouted during both his approach and as he hurtled past.

Bouncing on Doug’s shoulder and giving him an intense glare, a tiny Connie added, “You’re a butthead, Lars!”

Lars stood there looking a little stunned while the figures disappeared around the cliff face. He then felt along his ears, hunched his shoulders, and slunk around the corner of the building, muttering.

* * *

“First the centipeetles and now drill parasites,” complained Peridot from her corner of the couch, all while tearing off and strategically applying strips of duct tape to her limb enhancers. “We need to combat fewer thelytokous-capable gems.”

Lapis, her hair in disarray and her outfit a little the worse for wear, stood at the kitchen counter and nodded between bites of donut. “We also need to stop fighting gems that can make little minions.”

“Nyaaa! I just said that!” raged Peridot. Lapis laughed, spraying crumbs.

“‘s not as satisfying when they’re little,” said Jasper from her well-worn spot on the couch, the most visibly scraped up and the least visibly bothered by it.

Lapis swallowed. “Especially not when they can drill through your big, smashy water fist. In fact,” she said, patting the little cylinder hanging off her hip and giving a sly grin, “without this little baby I’d’ve had no fun at all. Have I mentioned you’re awesome, P-dot? ‘Cause you’re awesome.”

Peridot preened at the compliment. “You have, but it bears the occasional repetition.” She then rummaged through the donut boxes Lapis had hauled out of her room immediately following the afternoon’s battle. “Lapis, where are those lemon-filled pastries? I can’t locate them.”

Lapis looked thoughtful for a moment. “Ah man, did I forget the cream-filled ones? I guess I’ll have to make another snack run while Dougie’s out. Oh, wouldn’t it be funny if ear-boy had to chase down daddy dearest a second time today?” she said, grinning mischievously.

Jasper rolled her eyes but said nothing. 

Peridot stopped peering into boxes and looked a little nervous. “Lapis... about that.”

Lapis flopped onto a stool and blew a raspberry. “Oh not this again, Peri. See! This is another thing he’s made worse. Everytime he shows up, you and I end up in a spat. It’s just like him, too; things start getting better ‘round here after… things, and he waltzes in like he owns the place.”

Peridot adjusted her visor. “Actually, the deed to the Beach House itself is-”

“I’m just sayin’,” interjected Lapis, “after all he’s taken from me, from all of us!, the least he can do is pay for some post-victory snacks. I mean, I didn’t see him out there fighting.”

There was a sustained silence, then Lapis got a wide and wicked grin. “Hey, hey, remember that one time when Doug did try to-”

Jasper’s knuckles popped as her fists clenched with shattering force. “Lapis. No.”

The Blue gem rocked from the command like she’d been struck. Then she shook her head, cheeks flushing an even darker shade of blue, and declared, “Fine! But if Doug were to walk through that door right now I’d-”

The screen door hit the wall with a bang for the second time that day, Doug silhouetted in the entryway. Lapis jolted in surprise, fell with a startled ‘waaah!’ off the stool, and landed on the floor in a heap. Peridot gave an undignified squawk and flailed as she jumped to her feet. Jasper raised an eyebrow.

“Why can’t you enter a dwelling like a reasonable being?!” sputtered Peridot as she stalked forward. Lapis clambered to her feet radiating indignance; various fluids throughout the house rippled in their containers.

Doug stepped out of the doorway and collapsed onto the window seat, flushed and wheezing. The small yellow bundle in his arms squirmed down onto his lap, turned, and waved.

“Hi auntie Lapis! Hi auntie Peridot! Did you know daddy is a fast runna? I think I need new glasses ‘cause I can’t see real good no more. Can I have a lollipop after you look at my eyes? Also, mommy is pretty and Lahs is a poopie-head” called tiny Connie, giggling at the end.

“Oh. My. Stars!” exclaimed Lapis and Peridot in unison.

“I forgot how frickin’ cute she was at that age!” // “Why did our Connie regress approximately nine solar rotations?!” said the two over one another.

Jasper loomed behind them looking confused.

Doug sucked down a lungful of air, then wheezed out, “What’s happening to her? What do I do?!”

“How should we know?” answered the Blue and Green gems, once more in tandem.

“ **BECAUSE YOU’RE MAGICAL RAINBOW ALIENS!** ” bellowed Doug, infusing the cry with every ounce of breath and frustration he could muster.

Tiny Connie had been looking distressed at the adults’ behavior, but Doug’s shouting was apparently too much. She sniffled twice then started bawling.

“Good work, dad-of-the-year,” snarked Lapis. Doug cut his glare of naked contempt short to attempt to comfort Connie, bouncing her on his knee and making shushing noises.

Peridot stopped Doug with a gesture, crouched in front of the little girl and sang a lullaby. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_You're just so strange_  
_You're so peculiar_  
_This world, she left_  
_It all to you now_

_There is so much_  
_You should know_  
_About this world you’ll_  
_Battle for_

_For now you'll dominate with little hands_  
_And giggles I can’t understand_  
_And by the time that you can walk_  
_You’ll never stop_

_You're ever-changing_  
_And yet so teeny_  
_Oh so defenseless_  
_What they call 'a baby'_

_You’ll do so much_  
_In this world_  
_Hush now, don’t fuss, my girl_

_You’ve got us_

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Doug listened, his face showing no sign of recognition, but he smiled to see tiny Connie settle down almost immediately.

Finished, Peridot gave a warm grin to Connie, lifted the girl off Doug’s lap, and bounced the tot on her shoulder; behind her, Lapis started to make faces which prompted giggles.

As soon as Connie could no longer see Peridot’s face, the Green gem fixed Doug with an intense stare, leaned in, and whispered, “Doug, I want you to tell me _exactly_ what has transpired today!”

Jasper knelt in close, the window seat protesting with a creak as she leaned against it.

Doug, still a little pale and out of breath, gave them a summary of the day’s events. “It’s not because she’s sad, or happy for that matter; I’ve seen her age backwards through both,” he appended, looking at the gems pleadingly.

Peridot had grown visibly more anxious through the whole of the story and by the end was chewing on one of her floating digits as four others gripped her poofy hair. Her face was one of incipient panic.

Jasper was silent for a moment then nodded, body language radiating certainty. She stood, gingerly picked up tiny Connie --one massive hand under each tiny armpit-- and lifted the girl all the way up to eye height.

“Connie,” said the massive warrior, “you are the continuation of the greatest gem that has ever been. You will one day become an unrivaled warrior, leader, and strategist with powers that dwarf those of any other quartz. You will keep this world and these gems safe and even the Diamonds will tremble to face you. Yours is the hand that wields the sword of Citrine. Yours is the body that seats her gem. Yours shall be a legacy as bright and glorious as hers. All this I know. And I will be there to guide you to it, for it is your birthright. All this I swear.”

There was silence; from tiny Connie; from the gems; from Doug; the latter of which looked particularly surprised, though whether from the speech's content or from seeing a taciturn gem deliver it was unclear.

Way up in Jasper’s grip there was a _shimmer_ and the glasses fell off the face of the now-younger Connie.

By the time the glasses had bounced off the hardwood floor, everyone was in a rush to be heard.

Jasper held her gaze with Connie and spoke, “Rose Quartzes know empathy.”

Lapis raised her voice, “What in Citrine’s name was that, OJ?! We talked about our promise not to meddle like that JUST LAST WEEK!”

Jasper continued with, “Jaspers know endurance.”

Peridot cried out, “AHH! Jasper, put her down! Give me my delicate Connie before you crush her with your big, clumsy quartz-hands!”

Jasper, as though reciting a mantra, added “Amethysts know camaraderie. Carnelians know passion.”

Doug kept his voice mostly level but spoke forcefully, “Jasper, with respect, how the hell was that supposed to help?!”

Jasper’s voice rose to overwhelm all the others, hands that could crush boulders twitching as she held the tiny child aloft. “Citrines know confidence. That’s what she said. That’s what she told me! YOU ARE A CITRINE, SO WHY ARE YOU APPREHENSIVE?!”

Lapis, all smiles and soothing tones, hovered up into view and spoke, causing Jasper to tear her eyes from the now-crying child. “Jasper, sweetheart. Hiii. How ‘bout you let me hold the baby for just a teensie bit?” 

Lapis took tiny Connie from unresisting fingers that, once empty, formed into fists. Jasper pivoted, lunged across the room, and punched through the kitchen pillar, reducing a section of wood and the oft-rebuilt phone to shrapnel.

Lapis flitted over and landed carefully beside Doug and Peridot.

While Jasper was pacing in circles muttering and growling, fists clenching and unclenching, Lapis handed the baby to Peridot. The Green gem clutched the precious bundle tight to her chest, tears pooling at the base of her visor, eyes closed in relief.

Doug released a long-held breath, spared one more look at the incensed quartz, then walked over and faced his daughter. “Connie, it’s okay. I don’t really know what’s going on right now but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. I always have and I always will, no matter what.”

There was a _shimmer_ and Peridot staggered backward at the sudden weight in her arms. Lapis and Doug both helped her sit at the window seat.

“Was Jasper right? I mean, before she clodded it up. Quick! Doug! Say something supportive and accepting!” cried the seated gem.

Doug’s eyebrows jumped up, he nodded to Peridot, then turned once more to Connie. “Connie, even though coming home is sometimes difficult for me, because of work and… other things, my time with you is always wonderful. It makes... it makes it all worth it.”

Connie _shimmered_ and was sitting marginally taller in Peridot’s lap.

Peridot picked up where Doug left off. “Connie is an exceptionally astute pupil. She has gained fluency in three terrestrial languages as well as performing well above conventional standards in her coursework. And she has thrown considerable diligence and enthusiasm into mastering her newly-acquired power to create hard light constructs.”

“Wait, she can do that?!”, Doug said as Connie developed further.

“Indeed. She has also summoned her gem weapon; my analysis of the damage to the temple’s exterior confirmed it was a strike identical to Citrine’s galvanic sword throw,” added Peridot.

“She did?!” boggled Doug as he heard Jasper’s heavy steps approaching behind him.

“She poofed a corrupted kunzite,” stated Jasper.  
“What!” cried Doug.  
“She shoved a pipe through that Centipeetle Matriarch so Peri could zap it into last week!” said Lapis as she mimed the act.  
“Huh?” exclaimed Doug.  
“She rigged an effective means of ingress into the Lunar Sea Spire despite the Vortex’s instability,” explained Peridot.  
“I- but? How?” stammered Doug.  
“She subdued a centipeetle with a candlestick,” said Jasper matter-of-factly.  
“When was-” Doug started to ask.  
“She discovered a clever means of bypassing the gem-based vermin infesting the Spire,” added Peridot.  
“Those shrimp things?” Doug blurted out.  
“Yes, Doug. Try and keep up,” answered the Green gem.  
“She’s even better than I am at finding where Peridot hides her candy stash,” said Lapis.

Everyone, Connie included, stared in silent judgement at Lapis. “What?”, she protested.

Doug coughed, then spoke up, “Um, you’re friends with an older boy which, as a father to a beautiful girl who’s growing up so quickly,” and she was literally growing up before his very eyes, “I’m suddenly deeply unsure how to feel about. That’s, uh, not something I’d have to worry about if you were just a little girl.”

Connie looked up at her father with big, innocent eyes. Jasper looked down at Doug, then turned to Lapis and mouthed, ‘Who?’ Lapis facepalmed.

“In summation,” said Peridot authoritatively, “Connie is a burgeoning young woman of prodigious talent and numerous outstanding qualities. We are all proud of her accomplishments to date,” she paused to allow everyone to nod in response, “and we are each here to love and support her in _whatever_ future awaits her,” she finished with a bit of an edge to her voice.

A little while later a full-size Connie (minus socks, shoes, and glasses) was sitting across Peridot’s lap, hugging the Green gem close.

She then slid off of Peridot and pulled her father into a tight embrace: the former surreptitiously running a scan of the girl while the latter was beaming with happiness and relief. 

They separated, Connie took a deep breath, then said, “Daddy... Dad, I’m sorry for keeping so much from you. It was just, well, so much has been happening that you weren’t here for and I really didn’t know how you’d take it.”

Doug, who was wiping his eyes and cleaning his badly smudged glasses, shook his head. “I think all parents forget that their children will grow up; however, not all fathers are so lucky as to have a daughter as impressive as you. That means I need to, that you deserve for me to, try twice as hard keeping in touch with my magnificent girl. That’s on me, not you, cupc-, uh, Connie.”

Connie and Doug smiled radiantly at one another.

He placed the glasses back on his nose and straightened up. “So, how about this: we’ll go out and have ourselves a nice dinner and you can tell me all about everything I’ve missed and I promise I’ll spare you any paternal hysterics?”

His eyes went wide for a moment and he was quick to add, “Pr-Provided you’re feeling up to it, of course,” to which Connie nodded with a grin, “and provided no one has any objections.” 

Peridot looked up from the holographic displays and gave a smile. Jasper gave a barely perceptible nod. Lapis looked about to speak when the orange hand on her shoulder tightened marginally. She rolled her eyes then waved the large gem off her and said, “Only if I get a piece of that hug action.”

A beat later she added, “You can hug Jasper too… if you want.”

Grinning widely, Connie gave her two other guardians hugs, picked up her glasses, grabbed some replacement footwear, then strolled out of the Beach House with her father once more.

It wasn’t until the sound of their footsteps on the stairs faded that Lapis spoke. “Since we’re going to be making some repairs to the place anyway, someone wanna help me take that screen door off the hinges?”

“Stars above, yes!” agreed Peridot. “I’ll put it back in place tomorrow evening, just to be sure Doug doesn’t forget something and make a surprise return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a lot of crediting to do for Peridot's Lullaby. It was written and performed by our own [Mjstudioarts](http://mjstudioarts.tumblr.com/). The [music box cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRUWzU-pAwg) of Connie's Theme came from [MerryberryMusic](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCU5AEVKKQRacNRFetNGnnrQ). Connie's Theme was composed by the official Crewniverse musical duo: Aivi & Surasshu. It can [be heard here](https://soundcloud.com/aivisura/steven-universe-connie-piano-demo).
> 
> There's also an epilogue added to this episode, so be sure to check that out.
> 
> And finally, we've decided we like the style that just sorta gelled around the start of Episode 3, so our editor and fellow co-writer, BR42, is undertaking the task of revising our earlier Episodes to match. Episode 1, Chapter 1 is being updated today, with the plan being to update another chapter each week until all of episodes 1 and 2 are complete. This will be in addition to and concurrent with the new chapter we release each week. 
> 
> BR42 wants to add that the content of the old chapters won't change much, just the way they're presented. However, they add that they couldn't help but invent a few new quips and minor details along the way, so there'll be something for existing fans to enjoy if they want to give that initial chapter another reading.
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After you finish reading this chapter, there are related omake stories you might want to check out:  
> [What Can I Do For You?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10673391/chapters/23677404) by [CoreyWW](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoreyWW/pseuds/CoreyWW) \- "Doug did miss Citrine, missed her every day. And he hated that he let that show in front of Priyanka as much as he did ... But the thing that really made him hate himself was the small, idle thought in the back of his mind of how good it felt when Priyanka hugged him ..." **This is 99% canonical.**
> 
> [Fond Reminiscence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10673391/chapters/23704536) by [SilverScribe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverScribe/pseuds/SilverScribe) \- "Sometimes happy memories lead to unbearable pain..."

Doug sat at the wobbly desk in the extended stay hotel he used each time he came to Beach City. It was late at night. Or early in the morning, depending on how you judged it.

 _I wonder, do they always put me in the same room or do all the desks here wobble?_ , he thought as he fired up his laptop.

The ruggedized model showed the wear of more than a year of nigh-constant travel; the fact that it hadn’t been stolen, lost by the airlines, or broken made it luckier than most. Doug’s first stop, as ever, was his email.

_Hmm, work, work, capital ‘i’ important with three exclamation points from Marco so I know it’s not serious. More work. Oh, an email from Nat; I haven’t heard from her in a while._

Minimizing that window, he then downloaded the latest statements from his bank accounts and updated his (heavily encrypted) financial spreadsheets.

_That’s… a big number, actually. Still, is it really enough? Can I afford to…_

Doug sighed and pushed his chair back, the monitor shimmying as the desk wobbled underneath. He took a swig of water from the bottle on his bedside, then went through his previously postponed bedtime exercises.

One longer-than-usual series of reps, stretching, and light cardio later, Doug relented and went to shower.

 _You? Avoiding a problem?! I’m shocked,_ he thought in sarcastic self-reproach.

* * *

The dinner had been the real eye-opener. They’d gone to The Crab Shack, a seaside restaurant that passed for fancy out here in Beach City, located in the shadow of the municipal water tower. For some reason it wasn’t until he heard Connie recounting her adventures over the last two months, all in the calm, slightly tacky, but certainly mundane environment of the restaurant, that it was all driven home to Doug.

His daughter fought monsters. His daughter could do magic. His daughter went on missions.

His daughter was a Gem.

Doug had been attentive and supportive. He’d cracked jokes; shared the occasional anecdote; been solemn.

When he’d walked her to the porch, with the screen door missing for some reason, he’d had a wide, sincere smile while giving Connie a big hug, kissing her head, and promising to see her tomorrow in time for breakfast.

And, as promised, the paternal hysterics had been reserved for later: Doug locked his hotel room door, made an uncharacteristic raid of the minibar, then alternated between laughing and sobbing into his stiff, heavily-bleached pillow. A restless sleep had followed.

* * *

Toweled dry and trying to track the jiggling target that was his monitor, Doug used the touchpad to look at real estate prices in and around Beach City.

An hour and a half later, he was reading customer reviews on cell phones while tabbing back and forth to the guide a child psychologist had written containing their distilled wisdom after they’d bought one for their daughter.

Forty-five minutes after that, he was tabbing through the digital copies of his present and future contracts, sorting them into three categories: ‘can work remotely’, ‘light travel’, and ‘hand off to someone else’. 

Written in mostly-legible handwriting was a note on his bedside that read: _Go to Big Donut. Apologize. Ask to look over tab records from last couple of months to present. Commence operation Blue Karma if needed. Opens at ~~seven~~ 7:30 on Sundays._

An hour after that, Doug was sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, looking at photos of Citrine. Not _those_ photos; he’d made a point of organizing that gallery given the events of the day.

_It’s time, Doug. She’d want you to. Connie needs you to. Doesn’t matter that part of you still can’t see that yellow sparkle without thinking of… times that will never happen again._

Doug shook his head and gave a chuckle devoid of mirth. _Cripes, and to think I snuck in and replaced all of dad’s cds with that_ Cat’s in the Cradle _song after he disowned me. That’s, as Marco’d say, ‘some weapons-grade ironium’._

The horizon was just starting to hint at dawn when Doug’s laptop chimed. He wandered over, set his phone down, and saw one of those emails where you could RSVP for an event. At the bottom was a brief, personal message ending with:  
_You really should come; Doctor’s orders._  
_-Priyanka K._

By reflex Doug moved the cursor over the big, red ‘decline’ button, his finger poised to click… 

Doug frowned and drew a deep breath. He looked over at the picture on his phone; one of his favorites. A photo of a photo, really, since he hadn’t had the heart to remove the frame when he’d scanned it.

He exhaled slowly. The cursor moved.

_Click_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for Daddy's Little Girl, but tune in next week for the start of **Episode Five: Tales of Beach City**.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Snow Day! School is canceled so Steven is coming over to the Beach House for a fun-filled day of outdoor winter fun outside with Connie… until Peridot hands them both hot cocoa and insists they stay warm and indoors instead. With marshmallows to roast and stories the swap, the pair hunker down by the fireside in Tales of Beach City._
> 
> * * *
> 
> Also, a reminder that BR42 is updating Episode 1, Chapter 1 today with newly-revised prose. He said he was sure to work in a few new quips and little details, so that there'd be something for fans who've already read it. Consider going back and checking out where it all started.
> 
> Connie Swap has an official Discord for the fans. [Come check it out.](https://discord.gg/RQMDdhr)
> 
> As usual, we'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments and your asks at the [Connie Swap Tumblr](http://connieswap.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


End file.
